House Arrest

At first, my mom was relieved to only get 12 months house arrest. She and my father had both been charged with embezzling over a million dollars from the company they worked for. He was the Chief Financial Officer and she was just an accountant at the company. At their trial, my father's attorneys tried to pin the whole thing on my mom. Thankfully, the judge saw through that. It was clear my father was the mastermind and my mother was just his pawn. While my mom got the year of house arrest, my father got 15 years in prison.

While house arrest sounded like an easier sentence to serve as opposed to being in a jail, it ended up being worse for my mother. In jail, her day would have been regimented; she'd get up at the same time, have her meals at the same time, exercise at the same time, etc. While on house arrest, her only obligation was community service 10 hours a week at a woman's shelter. She wore an ankle monitor 24/7 and was only allowed to leave her house to go to the local grocery store. So she found herself spending a lot of time in bed, watching television, eating or sleeping.

In theory, her friends could visit. But after the trial, the family name was mud. She suddenly found she no longer had friends. My father was a dominant force in our family, so her social life revolved around him and people he knew. Now he was in prison, no one called, no one wanted to be associated with her.

I'm her son and her only child. Really, I'm her only family as well. My father isolated my mom from her siblings during their 20-some years of marriage. So she was estranged from everyone except me. My mother and I were close while I was growing up. My father and I, not so much. He was obsessed with accumulating wealth and social status. As long as his wife looked good at parties and his son ended up in a reputable university, he was satisfied. He believed you had to be a 'family man' to have a good reputation in the business world. So I always felt like a prop rather than his son.

I did end up in a good university. I graduated with degrees in both marketing and computer programming. I finished developing my first cell phone app with a buddy of mine when my parents were arrested. I lived on the other side of the country, so I kept updated on the legal proceeding through phone calls from my mom. But otherwise, I could carry on with my new business.

Like I mentioned, my mom was relieved when she got house arrest at the end of the trial. I think she was equally relieved my father was going to prison. She felt completely betrayed when he tried to pin the crime on her. She talked about divorce after that with every phone call.

It was only about 6 weeks into her year-long house arrest that I began to detect the depression that she was dealing with. It was during the third month that I really became concerned. She would call and not say anything, just cry softly. She wouldn't answer when I tried to speak to her. She would just cry and cry. That's when I bought a plane ticket and flew home.

I took a taxi from the airport when I arrived. The grass in the front yard hadn't been mowed for weeks. I knew that was a bad sign. Mom had always been fit and handy in the yard. Mowing was always something I dare say she enjoyed. I rang the doorbell and waited. I knew she had to be home or at the store. It was a Saturday and I knew she did have community service obligations. Finally, she came to the door. My heart broke when I saw her. She had always kept up her appearance. Not only because my father insisted, but she was a woman who took pride in how she presented herself. Now here she was; wearing a stained, ratty bathrobe, her once long and lustrous brunette hair was cut short and was now various shades of brown and gray. Her fingernails were short and chewed. I could see her legs from the knee down and they were clearly unshaven. There were bags under her once bright eyes. Her face looked old, pale and broken, her once bright white smile now yellow and dingy.

She looked at me for a few moments like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Then she threw her arms around me and broke out in sobs. The faint smell of b.o. hit me as I held her there in the doorway. The initial feeling of sadness I felt for my mother was soon replaced by a feeling anger. How could she allow herself to fall into such a state? She appeared to only be living in her bedroom. In every other room, the shades were drawn. The air was musty and stale. The trash was full of empty nighttime cough syrup bottles. This was how she was coping with her arrest? I wanted to take her over my knee and tan her hide.

So it was a mixture of love, anger, pity and resolve that I sat her down and explained how things were going to change. First, I was moving in... immediately. I would sell my share of the business. My partner and I had created it to sell anyway and we had offers on the table. The money wouldn't be enough for a 22 year old to live in luxury the rest of his life, but it would be enough to live very well for the next several years. My mom almost jumped for joy at the idea of me back home.

Second, she was going to get it together under my supervision; no more self-medicating with cough syrup, no more laying in bed all day, no more ignoring her health and hygiene. I was going to arrange for a personal trainer to come to the house. I would buy the equipment needed to workout. I was also setting her up with online classes. I wanted her to get an understanding of what I do. That way, once her confinement was over, she could work for me on whatever I decided to develop next.

Mom began to cry again as I finished explaining the changes we were going to implement. But they weren't tears of despair as she had been crying. She was crying in both shame at her current state and gratitude that I was dedicating myself to her betterment.

I spent almost two weeks at my mom's initially. I got her set up on all the things I had promised. Unfortunately, I need to go back out west for a month. My mom hugged me tight when I left, promising she wouldn't slip up while I was gone. I had to finalize the sale of my business, get out of my apartment lease and basically tie up all my loose ends. I had a girlfriend there I had been seeing for about 4 months. The sex between us was hot and plentiful. I liked her a lot and we might have gotten serious, but this situation with my mother demanded we end things. That was the hardest part of moving back home.

I was feeling some regrets when I arrived at my mom's a month later. But then she opened the door and I was blown away. She was the beautiful woman I remember growing up... times 10! The transformation was truly incredible. When I saw her six weeks before, she looked like she was 60, 60 years old and broken by life. She was actually only 40 years old. Now as she stood before me, she could have passed for 30. And not just 30, a healthy, happy, SEXY 30 year old who had nothing but hope and optimism for the future.

I hadn't told her when I was arriving, so she was about to get a quick workout in. She was wearing black yoga pants and a sports bra. Wow! Her body was amazing. Her tits were full and mouthwatering, more than a mouthful for sure. Her legs were tight and shapely. Her ass was on the fat side, which was how I loved a woman's ass. She had her hair up, but I could see she was growing it out. It was the dark brown which looked so good on her. Her face was clean and glowing. Her beautiful white smile was full of joy when she saw me. I forgot all about the life I had just left behind.

We sat down and she excitedly told me all about her life since I had left. There was nothing about the shame of her crime, the loss of social status or 'friends'. Instead, she beamed as she told me about her school and working out. I was so happy to see her transformed. She was really blooming like she never had before.

As for myself, I didn't want to just sit around for the next 8 months, waiting for mom's sentence to be up. So I signed up at a local technical school to become a massage therapist. I didn't think I'd ever do it for a living, but it seemed like a skill I could use in my personal life. Offering a girl a massage is always a sly move towards lovemaking. So I thought, what the hell, might as well be good at it.

From the moment I moved back in, the dynamic between mom and myself was more husband and wife than mother and son. I'd come home from school and she'd have dinner ready. I'd tell her about my school, she'd tell me about her workout or classes. Then I'd clean up, we'd watch tv on the couch then say goodnight.

On days we were both free, I tried to make it special since mom couldn't leave the house. I'd either have a fancy dinner delivered or I would make it myself. We'd both dress up as if on a date. We'd have a candlelit meal in the dining room, maybe with some wine. Then we'd watch a rented movie, always holding hands. The evening would end with a chaste kiss and a long hug, or at least they did at first. As the months rolled on, the kisses were getting less and less chaste.

We both felt it; our relationship was evolving. We both wanted more. We both wanted to complete the bond of man and wife. But believe me, incest is an intimidating line to cross, no matter how bad both parties want to. So the weeks went on and the heat between us increased.

One evening she asked out of the blue, "Baby, what's my most attractive feature?"

We were watching tv on the couch. I had my arm around her. She like to wear my plain white t shirts as a pajama top with cute silk boxers.

Speaking straight from the heart without hesitation, I answered. "Hmmm... I could get lost looking into your beautiful brown eyes. I doubt I could ever get enough of kissing your delicious lips. And when I see your ass wiggle as you walk, I'm hypnotized. But your breasts are truly amazing, mom. Every time I can sneak a peek, my heart smiles."

Not the most romantic response, I know. But it made her laugh. Then she ran a couple fingers down the slope of one breast, across the peak to the other.

"Mmmm... baby likes mommy's boobs. Seems nothing has changed. You didn't want to stop sucking on them when you were a toddler."

"Trust me, mom. Nothing has changed."

She laughed again and cuddled tighter to my side, making sure to rub those delicious milkers shamelessly on me.

She always called me baby, ever since I could remember. Never my father or anyone else, just me. Which made me wonder. I was staying in the guest room, right next to hers since my old room was now the study. The walls were thin and the vent system meant I heard every sound. I often could guess when she was masturbating. The bed would squeak or I'd catch a few quiet moans. But as the weeks were winding down on her house confinement, she got louder and louder.

"Ohhh baby... Baby?! Momma's cumming on you. Momma's cumming on you now. Cum for mommy! Baby? Baby!? Baaaabyyyy!" She'd yell this and more. She absolutely knew I heard it all. The next morning, I'd ask how she had slept. She'd give me long hug, a naughty wink and a smile. "Wonderfully. tee-hee!"

And ever since admitting I liked her tits, she started dressing to accentuate them. She found the loosest shirts she could find. Then she found every excuse to bend over in front of me so I could see her braless breasts swinging free. Once at breakfast, a naked tit 'accidently' popped out of her carelessly fastened robe.

"Oops!" she giggled. "I guess someone wanted to say hi."

I leaned down and kissed the fat nipple. "Well, good morning to you too!" I laughed and left the room.

"Tease!" she called after me.

Again, taking that final step into incestuous love... it was too daunting at that moment.

Then the final week of her confinement finally arrived. And many things happened all at once. First, my mom's divorce was finalized. Second, I graduated massage therapy school. And third, I surprised mom with a two week vacation to the shore in South Carolina. I rented us a beach house. She would get her ankle monitor removed Friday and we'd be on the road Saturday. She was ecstatic.

I graduated massage therapy school on Thursday of that week. Obviously, mom couldn't attend. So on my way home, I bought a massage table. Although she had begged me often during that year, I had never given my mom a massage. I jokingly told her I wanted to be certified, so she gets her money's worth. I was actually proud of my skills. So I didn't buy the table with the thought of seducing her or feeling her up. I wanted to give her a first class, therapeutic deep tissue massage.

She clapped her hands and did a little dance when I came home with the table. I set it up in her bedroom with fresh linens. I lit some candles and put on some meditative instrumental music. Then I called her in.

"Ok ma'am. I am going to leave the room. Please undress to your comfort level then get under the sheet, face down. I'll be back in 5 minutes. "

She smiled and gave my ass a little pat as I exited. I put on some medical scrubs and got the massage cream. Once I was together, I entered her room. She was under the sheet, just as instructed. I could see from her bare shoulders she was topless. Her head was resting in the face cradle. I folded down the sheet she was under until I reached her upper ass. She wasn't wearing panties either.

I warmed the lotion in my hands and began applying it to her back in long, slow strokes. Starting from her traps, I smoothly but firmly ran my hands down her back to the swell of her ass. I dragged my fingers lightly back to her traps, applied more lotion, then repeated. Once the lotion was properly applied, I began working specific areas of her back where I had felt muscle tension.

Mom didn't hold back when it came to moans of pleasure. In fact, she was making the exact same sounds as she did when she masturbated. I admit, it was a turn on to hear her express how good I made her body feel. I worked her back muscles for about 20 minutes. Then I moved to her wonderful ass. I was professional. I worked her glutes through the sheet, not skin-on-skin. I also didn't try to stimulate her in any sexual way. Still, she moan how amazing it felt. She told me I could work her ass all day. I just laughed and continued down her body. I worked her calves then the back of her thighs.

I asked her to turn over on her back. I lifted up the sheet slightly so she could turn while keeping her modesty. Once she was settled, she looked at me and smiled.

"Baby, that was amazing. Before you do anything else, please give your mom a kiss."

I bent down to give her the standard chaste peck, but she placed her hands on both sides of my face and began to passionately shower my face and mouth with ravenous kisses filled with urgent need. I uttered a moan of shock and surprise. I could have run out of there, yet I chose to stay. In a couple moments, I started returning her kisses with an equal intensity. We were soon panting into each others mouth as our tongues curled and teased each other. She threw off the sheet that covered her naked form. She grabbed my hand and guided it between her pillowy breasts, across her soft belly and over her trimmed bush. My fingers then touched the fat protuberance of her clit.

"Gaaaa! Oh, yessss baby! I need you to touch me. Please, baby. Please!" she pleaded into my ear with a raspy whisper. My fingers dipped below her clit to find a pussy so hot and wet, it was beyond anything I had know previously. She lifted her knees and spread her legs, allowing me full access to manipulate her soaked and needy womanhood. I was inclined to kiss my way down her inviting body and lick her to paradise, but she was almost there already. Besides, I wanted to stare into her eyes as I touched her most intimate parts for the first time.

I ran a finger softly along the outside of one labia then up the side of the other, gently across her clitoral hood, and then repeated a few times. She moaned into my mouth with the pleasure of my touch. I slowly ran a finger from the bottom of her entrance, between her delicate folds to the quivering bean of her clit. I then circled the fat nub with my well-lubed finger. I felt completely in tune with her body and the sensations I was creating in it.

She started humping her pubis upwards, signaling for me to enter her. I twirled her clit a few more times, then slid a finger between her swollen petals. I pulled my mouth from hers as I sank into her hot, wet box. Her eyes widened and mouth fell open at the intensity of the moment. She was beyond primed for me. I slowly finger fucked her for just a bit before I introduced a second finger. Once she was hungrily fucking back on my hand, I curled my fingers and found her G spot.

"Oh God, baby! FUCK!" Her head thrashed to the side, her eyes closed tightly as a wave of excruciating pleasure crashed throughout her body. Within moments, my pistoning fingers elicited 4 or 5 strong squirts of female ejaculate. He legs then clamped down on my hand like a vice. She gave a long groan of ecstasy as she bridged her neck and shoulder up off the table. Trapped inside her, my fingers felt the thump-thump-thump of her orgasmic contractions.

Then, all at once, she collapsed onto the table. She released a long sigh of total relief, her eyes closed, a dreamy smile on her face. I slowly removed my hand from between her legs. My fingertips were wrinkled as if I had been in a hot bath for too long. I looked down at her drained, satisfied body. She was the ultimate vision of a mature female glowing in post-orgasmic bliss. But this wasn't about us bonding through intimacy. This was addressing a pent up need, a need that demanded attention or else she was going to lose her mind.

I leaned down and softly kissed her lips. Her eyes fluttered open. Her smile was bright and beautiful.

"Baby, that was... unbelievable. You don't know how much I needed that."

I kissed her again. "I know, mom. It was amazing for me too. Now take a shower. By the time you get out, I should have dinner ready for us."

"I love you so much, baby," tears welling in her eyes.

"I love you too, Mom."

As I prepared dinner, I thought about what just happened. I figured I should feel traumatized, or at the least confused, over the fact I just masturbated my mother to orgasm. But I wasn't, not in the least. I was happy I could give that kind of pleasure to this woman whom I deeply loved. I was happy she trusted me that much, that there were no barriers, socially or emotionally, between us.

We watched tv after dinner. We were snuggled together on the couch. I was in a t-shirt and cutoff sweatpants. She had changed into a long night dress. Throughout the evening, we would turn to the each other and kiss softly, lovingly. It was heaven to be holding her like that, her delicious lips caressing mine. Then, as the night was getting late, her hand wandered down to my lap. My cock had been three quarters erect all night. Now her small hand gripped the shaft through the sweatpant material.

"Baby, let me do something nice for you," she growled with a mischievous grin.

Despite the protest of every cell in my body, I gently moved her hand away.

"Mom," I smiled after kissing her again. "This Saturday, we'll be at the shore. There is something very important we need to talk about then. And even though I want you more than anything on Earth right now, we have to wait until Saturday."

She gave me a sad pout. But then we hugged and held each other tightly and lovingly for the next half hour before we each went to bed.

Friday finally came. I spent the morning shopping for everything we would need for our vacation. In the afternoon, Mom and I went to the county office and got her ankle monitor removed. She broke down in relief and happiness as I drove her home. That evening, I took her to dinner in a town about 50 miles away to celebrate her freedom. We held hands in the car on the way to the restaurant and back. We were both ready for sleep by the time we got home.